(Photo
by
BRENDAN
SMIALOWSKI/AFP
via
Getty
Images)
Last
month,
Kamala
Harris
gave
a
speech
in
Atlanta
using
a
slightly
different
dialect
than
she
usually
does.
Republicans
accused
Harris
of
using
a
fake
southern
accent
and
thus
pandering
to
her
audience.
John
McWhorter
then
wrote
a column at The
New
York
Times
about
what
Harris
had
done:
“Code-switching,”
or
alternating
between
dialects
depending
on
the
circumstances.
McWhorter
explained
that
Harris
had
been
speaking
in
Black
English
in
Atlanta,
which
let
Harris
connect
more
easily
with
her
audience,
and
Republicans
confused
that
dialect
with
a
southern
accent.
Last
week,
Jesse
Watters
(of
Fox
News) continued
to
criticize
Harris
for
changing
dialects
when
she
speaks
before
different
audiences.
Watters
compiled
a
video
of
the
different
dialects
that
Harris
has
used
on
different
occasions,
again
accusing
her
of
pandering.
Democrats
in
turn
accused
Watters
of
criticizing
Black
culture
and
using
racist
dog
whistles.
My,
my.
Is
McWhorter
right?
Do
we
really
change
words
or
dialects
depending
on
the
situation,
or
is
this
some
kind
of
pandering?
To
think
about
this,
I
naturally
focused
on
the
specimen
I
know
best:
myself.
I’m
a
white,
English-speaking
guy
from
New
Jersey.
When
people
ask
where
I
grew
up,
I
code-switch,
depending
on
the
situation.
In
a
highbrow
situation,
I
grew
up
in
Princeton;
in
a
lowbrow
situation,
I’m
from
Trenton.
But
there’s
more!
In
New
Jersey,
big
roads
that
cross
large
sections
of
the
state
are
called
“turnpikes.”
When
I
moved
to
Los
Angeles,
I
started
calling
the
same
roads
“freeways.”
In
New
Jersey,
the
contraption
that
kids
slide
down
at
a
playground
is
called
a
“sliding
board.”
I
thought
this
terminology
was
completely
normal
until
I
moved
away.
Now,
like
virtually
all
Americans,
I
call
the
contraption
a
“slide.”
In
New
Jersey,
I
would
occasionally
drink
a
“soda.”
In
Chicago,
where
I
live
now,
I
can’t
bear
to
call
that
drink
a
“pop,”
but
I’ve
settled
on
“soft
drink”
to
better
communicate
with
the
locals.
I
lived
in
London
for
six
years.
When
people
asked
about
my
living
arrangement,
I’d
tell
them
that
“I
have
an
apartment
in
Chicago
and
a
flat
in
London.”
Remarkable:
“Flats”
and
“apartments”
are
exactly
the
same
thing,
but
my
mind
code-switched
in
midsentence
to
account
for
my
instantaneous
mental
journey
across
the
Atlantic.
At
restaurants
in
London,
once
I
got
passed
my
confusion,
I
would
order
aubergine
or
courgette
as
vegetables,
even
though
I
would
have
ordered
eggplant
or
zucchini
in
the
United
States.
When
I
told
my
son,
Jeremy,
that
we
couldn’t
take
my
father-in-law
to
a
nearby
London
Underground
station
—
“because
there’s
no
lift
to
the
tube
at
Oxford
Circus”
—
Jeremy
accused
me
of
having
gone
“all
British”
on
him:
“You
couldn’t
say
there
was
no
elevator
down
to
the
subway?”
See?
You
can
be
criticized
for
forgetting
to
code-switch.
There
are
situations
in
which
I
curse
—
because
those
words
best
convey
my
meaning.
And
there
are
situations
in
which
I
do
not
curse
—
because
cursing
would
be
wrong.
I’m
thinking,
for
example,
about
cursing
in
a
house
of
worship
or
when
I’m
in
the
presence
of
my
2-
and
4-year-old
granddaughters.
I
do
this
even
in
written
work:
When
I
write
a
legal
brief,
I’m
very
staid
and
formal.
That’s
the
nature
of
legal
briefs.
When
I
occasionally
wrote
law
review
articles
in
my
youth,
it
was
the
same
deal:
Informal
writing
didn’t
fit
the
situation
and,
in
any
event,
would
never
have
survived
the
editor’s
pen.
I
wrote
formally.
Now,
when
I
write
for The
Daily
Beast,
I
can
let
down
my
hair
a
little.
That’s
an
outfit
that
likes
humor
and
interesting
turns
of
phrase.
I
write
to
my
audience.
Things
that
sound
completely
ordinary
to
an
editor
(or
reader)
at
The
Daily
Beast
just
ain’t
gonna
fly
in
a
legal
brief
or
an
article
at
The
New
York
Times.
That’s
the
nature
of
things.
And,
of
course,
the
phrase
“ain’t
gonna
fly”
ain’t
gonna
fly
even
at
The
Daily
Beast.
But
we’re
not
at
The
Daily
Beast:
We’re
at Above
the
Law,
and
damn
near
anything
flies
here.
So
don’t
blame
Kamala
Harris
for
code-switching.
We
all
code-switch
in
endless
situations.
Our
words,
spoken
or
written,
conform
to
the
setting.
Things
that
would
communicate
in
one
forum
are
forbidden
in
another.
IMHO.
LOL.
Mark Herrmann
spent
17
years
as
a
partner
at
a
leading
international
law
firm
and
later
oversaw
litigation,
compliance
and
employment
matters
at
a
large
international
company.
He
is
the
author
of
The
Curmudgeon’s
Guide
to
Practicing
Law and Drug
and
Device
Product
Liability
Litigation
Strategy (affiliate
links).
You
can
reach
him
by
email
at [email protected].
Kathryn
